ARTICLES ABOUT T SHIRT BY DATE - PAGE 5

A uniform-free "dress-down" day at Charles Carroll High School in Port Richmond turned into a public dressing down for a student who chose to wear a pink T-shirt supporting Mitt Romney for president. Samantha Pawlucy, a sophomore at Carroll, said her geometry teacher publicly humiliated her Friday by asking why she was wearing a Romney/Ryan T-shirt and going into the hallway to urge other teachers and students to mock her. "I was really embarrassed and shocked. I didn't think she'd go in the hallway and scream to everyone," Pawlucy said.

BLACK BELT taekwon-do instructor. Political activist. High school sophomore. Samantha Pawlucy sure knows how to stand up for herself and stay true to her convictions. A geometry teacher at Charles Carroll High School, in Port Richmond, on Friday ridiculed Pawlucy, 16, for wearing a "Romney/Ryan" T-shirt and told her to leave class, her mother, Kristine, told the Daily News Wednesday night. The teacher told Samantha, " 'Your wearing a Romney shirt is like me wearing a KKK shirt,' " according to her parents, who said they intend to file a formal complaint Thursday with the district and the school.

Samantha Pawlucy said she's afraid to return to Charles Carroll High School after she complained that a teacher mocked her for wearing a Romney t-shirt on dress-down day. The sophomore said classmates, former friends, and even students from other schools have issued threats for what they see as lies and misinterpretation. That's what's she heard from other students and read on Facebook. "I don't want to go to school and get jumped," said Pawlucy, a second degree black belt in Taekwondo, at her Port Richmond home Thursday evening.

A uniform-free "dress-down" day at Charles Carroll High School in Port Richmond turned into a public dressing down for a student who chose to wear a pink T-shirt supporting Mitt Romney for president. Samantha Pawlucy, a sophomore at Carroll High, said her geometry teacher publicly humiliated her by asking why she was wearing a Romney/Ryan T-shirt and going into the hallway to urge other teachers and students to mock her. "I was really embarrassed and shocked. I didn't think she'd go in the hallway and scream to everyone," Pawlucy said.

DALLAS - Airlines give many reasons for refusing to let you board, but none stir as much debate as this: How you're dressed. A woman flying from Las Vegas on Southwest in the spring says she was confronted by an airline employee for showing too much cleavage. In a recent case, an American Airlines pilot lectured a passenger because her T-shirt bore a four-letter expletive. She was allowed to keep flying after draping a shawl over the shirt. Both women told their stories to sympathetic bloggers, and the debate over what you can wear in the air went viral.

One of the most anticipated games of the NFL preseason, if you believe in that sort of thing, is getting the rock-tour treatment: It will get its own commemorative T-shirt. For a mere $35, obsessed fans can buy a "QB Showdown" T-shirt, which will picture rookie quarterbacks Andrew Luck and Robert Griffin III. This year's No. 1 and No. 2 overall picks will face off Saturday when the Colts face the Redskins in Washington. "People will make a buck off everything," Redskins defensive end Stephen Bowen said.

THE WILDWOOD boardwalk has always had a dash of weird and plenty of cheese, but some think that the T-shirt shops there have turned weird and cheesy into crude and sleazy. Shirts hanging outside boardwalk storefronts can make things awkward for a parent and child in Wildwood, as in "Daddy, what's a pimp/bitch/stoner/drunk?" Parents may wonder what "Swag" is (or "Swagg," as it's spelled on one boardwalk tank), while young kids wonder what the funny symbols are in that same "F**K Your Swagg" top. The worst material is usually inside the store, such as a "blumpkin" shirt.

Standing at the service line, the woman in the blue T-shirt perches forward, her head and shoulders leaning away from the rest of her body, her arms dangling below. She's ready to move, just waiting for her teammate to drive the ball into play. On the other side of the tennis net inside the Pavilion at Villanova, the woman in the pink T-shirt assumes an identical position. Left hand on top of right, the woman in the blue shirt twirls her racket once, twice, still waiting for play to start.

It's 6:15 a.m. on a Saturday. I feel like one of the Walking Dead. There's a man hovering impatiently in our driveway. He looks like one of the Walking Dead. He's 45 minutes early for our block's garage sale, but he acts as if I'm the one whose clock is out of sync. He wants to know if we'll be selling any weaponry, rare coins, or Victorian jewelry. Soon, two others join him; one begins to complain about the unopened boxes, murmuring something about World War II-era Zippo lighters.